


The Ice Princess

by them1ghtypen



Series: A Fire Still Burns: Anthology [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Ice Powers, Orphanage, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 02:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17014134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/them1ghtypen/pseuds/them1ghtypen
Summary: Rukia learns of her unique ability to cast ice, just like her sister before her.





	The Ice Princess

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe someone hasn’t done this yet for IchiRuki. Or maybe someone has and I just haven’t found it. Anyway, please enjoy.

Rukia’s first memory was of a dark room with at least twelve beds. All the other children were huddled in their beds, shivering as the snow fell thick and slow outside her perch at the window. And she remembered a bright-red haired boy. He was older than her by a year or two, but up until the point she touched the window pane, she hadn’t noticed him.

“I wouldn’t do that.” He’d said it quietly, and she turned her wide violet eyes to look at him.

“Why?”

“Look for yourself.”

She did. There, on the windowpane where her hand had been, was a perfect snowflake the size of her tiny palm. And it was ice. She gasped in pleasure, and touched it with her forefinger. The snowflake spread.

The boy grabbed her hand and nearly flung her off of the sill before wrenching himself free and shaking his hand. She saw the droplets fling off of his fingertips as the pain left his face.

“You shouldn’t do that again.”

She didn’t. His anger and pain at touching her scared her down to her bones. Not until a bigger boy had pushed her off of a ledge and she had broken her arm. She balled her little fists and flung herself at him. Palm outstretched on her good arm she hit him squarely in the chest. Such a little girl shouldn’t have been able to fell such a big boy. But he staggered and collapsed.

His hair shimmered and became white over the next few days. When Rukia peeked in the little room they used as a hospital to see how he was, he was as still as a statue. She touched him and realized he _was_ a statue. An _ice_ statue.

She screamed and fell back. She hit something else and it clattered to the ground, and amidst the nurses coming in to see the commotion, someone hit him and dislodged him. He hit the ground and shattered.

Rukia didn’t remember much after that. Just that she must never touch another human being with her bare hands. She must never touch _anything_ with her bare skin or it would turn to ice. Gloves helped. She could touch things when she had gloves on. She kept a leash on her ability for a year until children from the orphanage pelted her with snowballs. The ice burst from her in ugly and angry shapes, and it was so much more powerful than when she had only used it a little.

One more lesson: don’t hold it in for too long. Others still get hurt.

She wouldn’t have survived without Renji, the red-haired boy. She touched him (with gloves on) and he willingly touched her – from comforting her to playing on the grounds. They were siblings in this place where so many other boys and girls flowed in but not so many left. He would encourage her to show him what she could do.

“It’s like hell out here,” he’d say. “Make me a cool lake to swim in.” The girls bathed inside. The boys bathed in the backyard. Apprehensive, she placed her hand in the water and thought of flurries. As she swished her hand back and forth and glanced at Renji, his crooked smile would reassure her. Then he’d jump in, yelling and shouting that it was freezing and unbearable. After, he’d lie on the grass and sigh, and thank her.

“Make me a snowman,” he’d demand, but with a laugh. Always with a laugh. And she would. She would swirl it together in record time, and Renji would smile that awed smile of his when she would create.

“Too hot. Cool down my hot chocolate would you?” Rukia would wrap her hands around the mug, feel the searing heat seep into her skin oh so briefly before she had to hand it back to him.

“Make me a miniature ice castle?”

“Make me a snow globe?”

“It’s summer. Freeze the pool so we can freak everyone out!”

“Show me a snowflake?”

“Do this for me, Rukia. How about that, Rukia? What about this?”

She had never known it, but at the time, it was what she needed. She’d needed to know that she could do things without causing harm. Her abilities to make ice were something dangerous, but as long as she didn’t keep it completely locked away and kept it under control, she was fine. Rukia had needed Renji.

Then suddenly, Renji wasn’t there. He was sent to a foster home. They hadn’t let them say goodbye, and she didn’t even have time to mourn him before a man came to take her away. He looked so cold. Not like Renji with fire for hair and eyes like warm syrup. No, this man actually _looked_ cold, like he was frozen on the inside. Could he freeze objects as well? He touched everything without gloves, and nothing froze. Rukia was simultaneously relieved and worried. Where would he take her?

He took her to a mansion. It was big and lofty and so unlike the dirty close quarters of the orphanage.

“This way,” he said quietly, regally. She followed him up three flights of stairs, staring in awe at the space and lavish furnishings of this man’s home. On the third floor were many rooms, but as they continued down the hall, a rock fell into Rukia’s gut.

“Wait here,” the man ordered.

Rukia did. But she heard the urgent, whispered, “You _found her_?!” come from the almost-closed door in front of her.

“I did. Let me bring her to you.” She backed a couple steps, but looked at him when he said, “There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

Rukia gingerly stepped in and peeked around the door. There, on a massive bed was the face she saw in the mirror almost every day. It was _her_ face, older, sunken in and pale, and the eyes were violet, too. But these looked almost blue in a certain light. Rukia could barely breathe.

“Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “I’m Hisana. I’m your sister.”

“No.” No, that wasn’t true. If she had a sister she wouldn’t have been in the orphanage. Rukia didn’t realize she’d said that out loud.

“Byakuya, please leave us,” the woman whispered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The man did leave, and when he did, Hisana turned to Rukia. “I know you won’t believe me unless you have this.” She weakly pushed a carved wooden box towards Rukia. “And this.”

It was the strangest thing. A sparkle flitted into Hisana’s eyes, and her skin wasn’t quite so pale as her hands came together. Rukia almost stumbled back when flurries of snow burst through Hisana’s fingertips. And there, in her palm, was an ice skater made of the clearest-cut ice.

“How did you…”

“We’re sisters. Look through the box. You will understand. And take care of this angel. Don’t let her melt, and she’ll take care of you.” Hisana sighed weakly, her hands trembled, and her eyes were now doubly dull. “Byakuya knows about the ice. It’s okay. You’re a Kuchiki now.”

It was the last breath she took. Rukia felt the sorrow squeeze her chest, even though she had never known this woman. She felt a drop on her hand, realized it was the statue melting, and quickly froze it again.

The man with the cold eyes came in moments later. There was no chaos. No cries of desperation that fell from his lips. Simply, “You will be living here now. Let me show you your room.”

She followed in a daze. Her room was almost as large as the dormitory she had shared with twelve other children, yet this room was filled with only one bed. There was a desk and shelves upon shelves of books. When the man left and closed the door, she sat on the bed and looked through the wooden box.

There were collectables, pictures, and a diary. She fumbled through it frantically. Her sister, Hisana had had no choice but to leave her. Men had broken into their home days after their parents had died. Hisana was twelve. Rukia was only a year old. She froze the men solid in defense. Only when she realized a neighbor had heard the commotion and called the police did she realize the trouble she had gotten into.

Fleeing with only Rukia bound tightly in her arms, she barely managed to stay one step ahead of the pursuit. She came across an orphanage. Hisana stopped, indecisive one moment before plunging towards the door and knocking furiously. A kind old woman let them in.

Hisana was able to stay three more years before being chosen as a companion to the daughter of a wealthy businessman (and even though they were nice, she knew better than to ask if a 4-year-old could come live with them). Soon after, she met Byakuya, and fell in love. He had agreed to let Rukia come live with them, but when Hisana went back for Rukia, they had transferred her somewhere else. Hisana had looked and looked, but was unable to find her sister.

Rukia didn’t feel the tears on her cheeks as she began to mourn the sister she had never known. She hadn’t even realized that she had slipped to the floor, and as grief stole into her heart, so ice covered the room.

00000

Life was abrupt, a changeling with no sure form. It influenced everything, and Rukia found herself wandering the school gym at 9 o’clock at night. The thick walls muted the unbearably loud music from the cafeteria, and all she could hear here were remnants of the bass. Outside, a chill was just beginning to creep into the air, signaling the approach of winter. Rukia felt it all the way in the gym, and couldn’t wait for it to come.

She needed a release. All summer she had desperately held in her talents, attempting to be normal as she hung out with school friends at the beach. She was close to losing control, and the high schooler that had taken her to prom tonight made her anxious. She remembered – anxiety and her talents were never a good mix. Separation was the key, and she forced herself to breathe deeper as she perused the gym.

There was nothing to see. It sat as it did every day before P.E. The bleachers were pushed against the wall, the lights were off and not a soul stirred as the muted tones of bass reverberated through the walls.

Rukia glanced around. No one was here. Maybe… Just a little…

Quickly, as if afraid someone might walk in, she ripped off the gloves, and felt the ice jolt through her. It electrified her veins, made her feel alive. She swallowed, and tentatively reached forward. As if its own entity, the ice leapt through her fingers, bursting into the air.

She smiled, and extended her other hand. The ice flew around her, creating any pattern she wished. She laughed quietly, and twirled around another burst of ice that formed snowflakes. Ah, how she had missed this.

There was no other music, merely a tinkling sound as the ice pinged on the waxed gym floor. The snowflakes muffled the rest of the bass, and the gym was transformed into her own personal, snow-swept forest.

Around the gym she twirled, creating any pattern of snowflakes she wished. It felt so freeing to loosen the tension in her body, to make something new. Once the snow came, she would be able to make all sorts of things, and no one would question it.

Suddenly, she wasn’t alone. Rukia stopped hurriedly, the sounds of the ice on the gym floor no longer calming, but deadly. A high school boy stood a small distance away from her, hands in his pockets. Her breath fogged out in front of her, and only then did she realize how cold the gym had become.

He took a few slow steps towards her. It was as if she’d frozen her own feet – she couldn’t move a muscle. He looked around the gym, seeing the spots where her snow had not melted. She tried to now, but she knew she was too scared to get it right. It would only get worse.

Finally, his eyes stopped their perusal and landed on hers. She sucked in a startled breath. There was no fear, no anxiety, no nothing in his chilled amber eyes. Only awe.

“This is beautiful,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” she murmured automatically. She had no other response. But she spoke quietly, almost as if she were afraid anything louder would break the spell.

“How do you do it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I always have.”

He nodded, thinking, then smirked slightly. “Can you make a snowman?”

Suddenly, Rukia laughed quickly, an amused but short and shocked sound. In that moment he reminded her so much Renji, even though nothing about the two was similar. Renji was short and stocky; this high school boy was tall and lean. Renji’s hair was a fiery red; this boy’s hair was as orange as the setting sun. But their eyes were the same – different colors, but the same. They looked at her without an ounce of fear or disgust.

She nodded, and in front of him, a snowman formed. He jumped back, laughing lightly as it grew.

“Sorry. I haven’t made one all summer.”

He shook his head. “This is amazing.”

Feeling bolder, Rukia smiled. “I’ve been working on these.” Ice formed in her hands, and slowly, she worked her magic, plopping ice here, elongating it there. Finally, she held it out to him. “What do you think?”

He stared at her rabbit closely. “Well, that’s the best-looking ice I’ve ever seen. The bunny, though…well, that’s the worst-looking bunny I’ve ever seen.”

“Hey!”

“I told you the truth!”

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask you to.”

He laughed lightly. “You’re right about that. I’m Ichigo. Who’re you here with?”

“Rukia.” She made a face. “I’m here with Keigo. You?”

“Ugh,” he groaned. “I don’t have to tell you that was a bad idea.”

She snorted.

“I’m here with Orihime.”

Rukia covered her mouth and repeated him. “I don’t have to tell you _that_ was a bad idea.”

He chuckled with her. “Hey,” he murmured. “The ice melted.”

“I can only melt it when I’m relaxed.” She shrugged.

Suddenly, he grinned. “We should leave it this way. Let them freak out.”

Once again, she laughed. As it died in her throat, she found him staring at her, his eyes seemingly taking in everything. Still no fear, no judgment. Just mischief. Just like Renji. She desperately wanted another friend like him, someone who would share this with her. Disregarding her nervousness, Rukia looked Ichigo straight in the eye.

“Do you want to go back with me, then?”

He held his arm out. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She wrapped her arm around his, and ice bubbled in her stomach. This time, she knew it was a completely different kind of nervousness.

Together, they walked out the watery gym.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> So much fluff. Let me know what you think.


End file.
